AN: Holy shit. I didn't expect this to be so long, but I couldn't find a split anywhere either. This can stand alone, but it's sort of a prelude to one of my multichap fics. Kind of like a back story. Itachi is young here, not the emotionally haggard one we have in the manga. That is not this Itachi. He is younger, and has more freedom to express himself and is still on the path of getting to the place where he has to hide everything.
This is a bitch to write, I will not deny that. And at this length, I've actually already lopped off countless parts that made it too long, so there are places where the pace is faster. However, I stick to my guns that this is only a oneshot, because gods forbid, they know how I do not need another multichaptered fic that begs to be finished.
Please, enjoy.
Scorpio: Damage Control
Companion Oneshot
You never forget your first.
He raised his hands, effectively blocking the foot threatening to crush his skull and deflected the blow to his right, banking on raw instinct to grab at the owner's ankle and deliver a knee cracking through the shinobi's spine. A satisfactory cry filled his ears and he let go, crouching down on the tree branch as the enemy plunged from the treetops down to the ground.
Itachi clenched the kunai in his mouth, tasting acrid steel and salty sweat as he remained still, sensing if anyone else was about to attack. Damn it, she's taking too long.
He could see at the edge of his vision where she was seated under the dark leaves within the foliage of an evergreen, concentrating hard with unseeing eyes and hands formed tightly in a tiger seal. A few more seconds was all he needed, and he just wished she would hurry up.
Bathed in moonlight among the treetops, he suddenly was aware of shadows growing around him and steeled himself.
Up.
Executing seals in rapid succession, his sharingan flashing as he spat out the kunai in his mouth, taking a deep breath before facing the heavens that glittered with stars, Katon Goukakyuu...
The roar of fire erupting from his mouth drowned out even the words in his thoughts, the heat a welcome breath against his face from the ripping howl of the icy winds. It was effective, blasting one from the group head on as an axe raised to cleave his head, the rest of the members scattering to leave the burning mass screeching to the ground like the others he felled earlier.
"Faster!" he yelled, ebony eyebrows scrunching together. He didn't have enough patience to deal with this, and he was figuring out whether it would be faster if he were the one to deal the genjutsu or just leave her there as a sacrificial decoy instead. If only he weren't tasked to actually protect her.
~x~
Itachi almost didn't believe it as he scanned the file, remaining focused on the rank the data exhibited. Surely it was a mistake?
"Ibiki-san, I believe there is an error here," he said, looking up at the man sitting behind the desk. The room was small but not bare, the late afternoon sun shining through slatted blinds and highlighting the dust slowly swirling in the humid air. He had just gotten back from a patrol with drying sweat clinging to every inch of his skin, raven hair matted to his forehead and neck, his mask dangling from his fingers at his side.
The hum of afternoon insects buzzed by the window, a lone ceiling fan overhead lazily turning and being more of a fly swatter than providing any ventilation to the office. He felt sticky and craved for the Nakano river by the Uchiha compound that ran cool even during the hottest of days. At times like these, the war with Hidden Cloud looming across the horizon, most daily amenities took a toll even for those working for ANBU.
He could only imagine the conditions of working at the Academy.
The man behind a stack of overdue paperwork sighed, then rummaged through a pile of scrolls before making a small grunt of appreciation when he found what he was looking for. Pulling out a small green scroll, he unrolled it with a flick of a hand, bored eyes passing through the list that appeared as the paper bounded across the littered desk and dove right down the side of the table.
It unveiled names upside-down before Itachi and he could make out some crossed with a single line of black ink, a few others with a grim red slash overlaid. It gave him a sense of foreboding that he knew, for some unknown reason, those marked in red had died.
"Yep. She's here. She's a genin all right," the older man replied, giving him a dismissively peeved stare before uncapping a brush and slipping a healthy dash of jet black ink over the name in question.
"I'm sorry, Ibiki-san. It's just that... I don't think I'm up to this."
Morino Ibiki looked ragged and tired, bleached white bandages covering his head, no forehead protector in sight. He was told the story of how he had returned from a mission as a messenger to a Leaf outpost when he had been captured, tortured and tried behind enemy lines before coming back with precious intel on the enemy without spilling a word of what he knew.
Some months later and he was temporarily stuck doing desk jobs for the ANBU during recovery. That same steely man was now looking at him, hard eyes flat with boredom.
"Let's see about that," he was told in a gravelly tone, his chin dumped into a hand as he leaned his elbow on the table and gave him an abject narrowing of sharp eyes. His gauze-swathed head caught the afternoon orange glow from behind him. "If you were looking for a fresh graduate, she is one."
Itachi almost cringed.
He knew Ibiki was referring to what his much older team members had been constantly joking about, what was whispered in hushed words in office meetings and congregations. Something lewd. Obscene. Almost tantamount to horrific at times, yet it remained part of strict protocol. It wasn't exactly what he had in mind. In fact, he was just astounded someone could be that old and still insist on being a shinobi.
"But..."
"No buts," interjected Ibiki. "We're stretched as it is, we need every ounce of help we got. Every goddamn ounce, you got it?"
The Uchiha's mood dropped a little, knowing he had no say in this. His lips twitched, pulling downwards slightly. His senior made sense, after all, and he couldn't drop the massacre bomb on him, having sworn to take that information to his grave. His eyes flitted back to the name on the file.
Yuuhi Kurenai, twenty-three years of age.
Well. He had to give her credit for being persistent, though. If they wanted him to break her, he'd break her all right.
~x~
The genjutsu hit and deep down inside. He felt like praising the family lines she descended from. At the very least she was capable of strong mass illusions, currently successfully engulfing the remaining shinobi in a dazed stupor.
It was as if time slowed down, the surviving pair suddenly freezing among the tree branches, halting halfway in their beeline of an attack towards him. He could feel the tension as chakra sparkled in the air like glittering dust through his bloodline limit, his field of vision catching her fiercely concentrating in the shadows a mere meter beside the enemy, scarlet eyes focused.
He frowned behind his mask, momentarily taking his eyes off her to whip out his blade, unsheathing it with a slick hiss of metal on wood before charging full speed toward one of their adversaries, not even blinking as he rammed it straight into the man's rib cage that his thick lips twisted to a snarl of pain, readying to part into a bloodcurdling wail as genjutsu's effects on him broke.
Too late, Itachi's sword sank hilt-deep in his heart.
Looking to his left, the other shinobi's eyes were still torpidly blank, the air around them still heavy with energy. He was extremely close to his female charge and needed to be eliminated at any rate. Good. He was still under the illusion.
Blood sprayed everywhere within the split second his feet landed on the tree limb, and he lifted his foot, slamming it against the man's throat to crush vocal chords and prevent him from signalling back up of their location once the shock wore off and he managed to stay alive. One couldn't be too sure.
Itachi felt the chakra suddenly dissipate in a snap like breaking water surface for air as the heavy glow disappeared, and immediately turned his head to check on Kurenai to realize the whole illusion technique was broken. Shit. Eyes wide, mouth open, and splattered with enemy blood. She was also in shock. The other man's mind would be beginning to clear, giving him less than a minute to act.
He tried to kick off the corpse from his sword but only managed to partly extract an inch of blade, the body slumping over the branch in dead weight. Thirty seconds. Redirecting energy to his feet, he raised it once more to deliver a better aimed and more loaded shot at the stomach.
"Tai... chou..."
Her voice trembled in the night air and he whirled around, ready to snap at her to shut up when the man he had stabbed unbelievably stirred by her knees. An unholy groan emanated from his throat and with enough fury in his chakra-laden foot, Itachi slammed it on the already-shattered sternum, the man's eyes going wide in a mixture of horror and fury as he tipped over the edge of the branch.
Fifteen seconds.
Itachi lost balance the same time he lost the enemy's weight from his weapon and he steadied himself, using chakra in his feet to cling to the dew-slicked wood.
A shadow flickered in his peripheral vision, the hairs on his nape rising from adrenaline and the cold hush of wind picking up. Compensating, he ducked as a giant cleaver hummed through the air where his neck would have been. The other one was already awake but still he was thankfully slow, the effects of the hallucinations still latching on and numbing his consciousness.
Ten seconds.
Reaching for a kunai from his back pouch, he flicked it towards the head of the man, a burly arm smacking it aside like it was nothing, and was as much as he anticipated. Using the opening, Katon...
The medial fireball was a scintillating distraction and grandly lit up the man's features in a bright blaze, brown eyes widening as he saw Itachi take off upward toward the heavens and tried squinting through the fire, managing at the last minute to see him threateningly descend from the sky with a sword slashing downwards.
Both arms raised as a survival instinct and the Uchiha could feel the way the metal of his blade met flesh and bone with a sickening thwack, stilled by the density of the enemy's thick arms and a grim, smug smile on the older ninja's rubbery mouth that his attempt was thwarted.
It was short lived. The Uchiha raised high a gleaming hidden tanto and with his face blank of emotion, Kurenai a scant meter behind him looking away a split second too late. In a flash he embedded it right in middle of that smirking face.
Zero.
~x~
Mikoto was nudging him awake and he was fighting the urge to groan and protest and tell her to go back to the kitchen. He didn't feel well.
"Itachi, breakfast is ready."
He heard her bustling about earlier. He even heard them wake up. He knew Sasuke was the first one who stirred in the house that morning, and had bounded into their parents' bedroom clamoring for tomatoes and onigiri. He knew everything that happened. Nothing was hidden from him in this household, every event, every insignificant detail.
Itachi cracked an eye open at his mother's blurred, smiling face. There wasn't much he could make out but he was sure the block of sky in the window behind her was still a deep indigo of dawn.
Instead of acquiescing to what she wanted, he closed his eye again and turned to the other side, pulling his blankets even tighter around his shoulders. Despite that, he heard her chuckle behind him, giving him a small pat on the head, leaning close, then leaving his room. Her warm breath whispered in his ear that in a month, it would be June.
His heart sank even more than it already had since he was tasked by the Sandaime to be a double agent and discovered the horrors his clan harbored.
Soft feet pattered over to him after Mikoto left and a small body scrambled over to his side, squishing itself to him and small hands grabbing his arm to use as a pillow. He didn't need to think much as to who it was.
"Nii-san. I think fourteen is just... so old."
He buried his face in the spikes he could smell right in front of his face and hugged his younger brother tightly, hoping Sasuke didn't notice the wetness of his pillow.
"Now that you mention it, yes it is."
~x~
"Kurenai."
He managed to pull out the knife from the body as it fell despite his hands and the handle being slick with blood. Running a knuckle across his brow, Itachi looked back to her, unmoved in the same spot. He cautiously stepped closer and knelt before the quivering form, scarlet meeting scarlet in the dense shadows of the leaves.
She was shaking. No. More like an uncontrollable tremor. She was partly unresponsive to external stimuli. She was in shock. He sighed, glancing over his shoulder and scanning the sea of trees before them.
His eyes betrayed groups, dozens of them, their chakra systems glowing in clustered dots as they moved and ebbed in their search for the intruders. He knew the caravan they stumbled upon was from Cloud, just he was not expecting this sudden, blatant reaction that felt a little like overkill. It appeared the caravan was so important to them to go on the offensive.
"Kurenai," he repeated, memorizing a path that he had laid out in his mind after a quick assessment. "Get up."
Her curls bobbed in the wind like the rustling leaves. Silence.
He felt the annoyance mocking him. Ibiki's bad luck must have rubbed off when he officially handed him the mission to break the genin. They had been running for a day straight now, and he was banking on a good night's rest before barging into actual enemy contact when they had been literally in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Had it been Kurenai on first shift and not him, InoShikaCho would have had to file a missing persons report when they failed to meet them at the emissary grounds. He was partly thankful for that, remembering the nin dogs snarling at their tree as twenty-man-strong group had hoarded what appeared to be suspiciously ordinary scrolls on the forest floor.
"I said, get up," he said, grabbing her roughly by the arms and pulling her to her feet, pushing her into the trunk of the tree and ignoring the rough bite of the bark on their skin.
This was no time to coddle her. She whimpered and he could see in her eyes she did not expect the fights to be this brutal and visually violent. They always never did. The body behind him was bleeding through an open wound right through his face. He lacked patience in teaching when it wasn't Sasuke, he realized as well, but he had to act fast. He didn't care how to snap her out of it as long as it was effective.
"Get over it," he said, staring her eye to terrified eye, his thumb on her chin forcing her to look back at him when she tried to look away. "Those people after us? They alerted everyone they possibly could. I can't keep fighting them. You have to help me."
There was terror there, shame. And utter fear of him. He did not look intimidating in the least on civil ground or normal social interactions, that he knew, but within the scope of battle Itachi was taught to pull no punches. Experience was a bad mother and he had to do everything to keep him and his team alive, leaving no room for sympathy or emotion. The quickest ways to end things weren't pretty.
Broken. Done. Now he had to fix her, patch her up just enough to get her moving.
"Help me, Kurenai," he ordered.
Finally something clicked in those lost, red eyes, and they obligatorily drifted up to meet his.
"What... do you want me to do?" she asked in a low whisper, a newfound respect in her tone.
"Five hundred meters to the left, then we drop to the ground," he eased away from her and released her arm, satisfied. "Prepare another mass illusion. We're going to be running into a four man team before I can do anything to save us."
She shuddered. For someone a decade older than him, he didn't know if he would ever get used to her being so... weak. She should stick to working in the confines of the village if he managed to get them out of this alive. No way would she be ready for battle anytime soon.
He turned to check on the approaching danger with the wind howling in his ears, calculating his plan's accuracy. They were inching closer, the lights drawing steadily closer as if sensing their very presence. The closest one was going to intersect them a hundred meters off.
His mouth pulled into a grim line. Stepping away to take his sword that thankfully had clattered to the branch and was saved from falling to the ground below, he resheathed it.
He felt her presence move to follow him out into the exposure of moonlight as he turned to her, raising a bloody hand, pressing the tips of his index and middle fingers over her cheek, and felt the muscles twitch nervously under his touch. In a quick movement he swiped it across her skin, leaving a thick trail of congealing blood.
~x~
Yamanaka's laughter echoed in the clearing as he stared at him. Their two other teammates weren't helpful either.
"What's wrong?" he asked. He was still their captain. Merely inducted into being exactly that a few days earlier, the team was still trying to discover the perfect dynamics between them by barbarically whacking at it with a hammer. At thirteen, he knew they wouldn't be taking him seriously at first, and felt irked they were seemingly writing him off.
"Oh, you," said the blond man, still chuckling as he sat down beside him on his log. It was nighttime, and they were camping out on their first mission around a fire. "If you don't get it, then you're probably too young."
Itachi frowned.
Most of the time he felt better when people started treating him like a kid, because for one, Fugaku never had. He took every chance from the responsibility of being the next Uchiha clan head whenever possible. It was just right now, he didn't know if he liked the idea his team of three grown men were sharing an inside thing.
"I want to know," he said with finality. "Tell me."
The man beside him and the dark haired man across them shared a look between themselves, Akimichi turning over the rabbits they had caught to avoid them from burning. There was a clear silence, telling him that for whatever reason, it wasn't going to be a joke. Nara Shikaku nodded for Inoichi to go on.
Having made his first kill at age seven, Itachi doubted there was anything that could surprise him more. He would soon find out that apparently, there was.
"It's in the written guide," started the blond, the large hand on his shoulder clapping him slowly as if he were choosing his words. The crackling of the fire followed the pause in conversation. "I think you're... mature enough to understand it. You probably just, you know, glossed over it before, or it didn't click the first time around, eh?"
Laughter.
The fact it came only from Inoichi gave away to Itachi he might have bit off more than he wanted, now feeling a bit apprehensive as Shikaku searched through his pack for a copy of the guide. It appeared sooner than he wanted, its folds and kinks straightened out a bit before being handed by the grim-faced Nara over the fire. Maybe it was only the effect of the strange shadows from the campfire.
Whichever it was, a shiver ran down his spine when he reached out and his fingertips brushed the paper.
~x~
A loud clang of metal rang through his ears, gritting his teeth as the powerful momentum shuddered well through his whole being and forcibly brought his knees into the muddy ground, managing to barely shield himself in time from a monstrous axe with the metal hilt of the tanto. The blade of the giant weapon was wedging almost halfway through his own before he let go of the knife.
Vanishing into a wisp of smoke, he reappeared at a safer distance, a loud cracking echoing across the trees as the axe plunged into snapping twigs and spraying earth. Blood pounded in his ears when he breathed hard, muscles screaming as he tried to keep from collapsing. That had been almost too poweful. The man looked up, his breath coming out in clouding puffs.
Itachi surmised he had to be exhausted as well and cringed when the blade was hoisted up against the shinobi's shoulder.
Shit.
His face turned forbidding and his eyes flitted to one of the bodies littering the forest floor. He had been unable to take back his sword.
The man was gauging him, also swaying on his feet. Nevertheless, the Uchiha wouldn't underestimate him. He was immensely strong and just as fast with such a bulky choice of weapon. He would have had the advantage, hadn't he discovered that the last man standing was a taijutsu user. Hearing the low growl, he backed slightly, names of ninjutsu he knew firing off in his head. Everything that followed next happened blindingly fast. Itachi felt a buzz in his head as he was charged, a haze overcoming his vision as the shinobi's form threateningly thundered over the ground armed with the cleaver, causing an ache deep in his bones.
Lithely avoiding the whine of metal skimming his arm guard and sang over his head, his eyes began hurting and he wondered whether current circumstances deemed the use of the mangekyou.
Too early, he told himself grimly, keeping on the defensive and barely managing to step out of the way before the attacks, his predictions of where the blitz hacks would fall coming true hair breadths before they happened. So far, so good.
Evading slashes coming closer than what he wanted, he could almost taste the merciless intent in the air, the scent of damp soil pervading as a crackle of energy burst from his hands and chakra coursed through his body. It thundered all his senses from within as he fought to control it. An angry roar reverberated in the night, the towering form too close now with the stench of rancid sweat assailing his nostrils and the metal head of the axe rising high, blackening the block of white moon.
Feet sinking into moss and channeling all remaining strength into his palms, Itachi's sharingan deactivated. Then in a single hand seal before the moment the blade swung down, he disappeared.
The principles of the Yondaime's Flash Step weren't as easy to execute as it appeared to be, and the Uchiha felt terribly weakened as he burst into existence above his adversary, ignoring how every fiber in his body felt ripped apart and raw and painful and Kami-sama, he needed to focus.
Shaken and unable to process anything wholly, he managed to catch the glint of the blade as its edge caught moonlight right before his shadow muted it. He couldn't see how he was able to aim, nor did he know how he managed to keep steady his hands throbbing with chakra. He barely even felt the impact when the hit connected, hearing a dull crack in the distance as the rounded crown of a skull was crushed beneath his fingers.
The only thing he knew was that in trying a slapstick, on-the-go patch up of a Hokage's technique based on assumptions he only knew from second-hand stories, something had gone horribly wrong. The fact he survived it had not grazed his conscience as the body crumpled to the floor and he landed, stumbling, onto the grass beside it.
Itachi winced, dark gray eyes struggling through the pain to focus on the hiding spot beneath the giant tree, his vision blacking out. Scared scarlet irises met his, alarmed. Hands covering her mouth to keep from making a sound. Questions he couldn't understand.
Narrowing his eyes, he pushed himself to his feet. He couldn't fail now. Not when they were so close. Closing in. He had to...
~x~
He had a penchant dislike for people who wore make up. He had no idea why. He may have gotten so used to the notion of the simplistic charm Uchiha women were taught to embody, the ease of natural grace and clean faces untainted by any accent, with their white hands and pink lips, that he grew to prejudice those who did indulge in altering their real appearance. He knew, however, not to underestimate those who used such frivolous unnecessities.
Strong kunoichi, sometimes even their male counterparts, had been known to use such as decoys and even going as far as to include it in their arsenal. Still, he found he yearned for stainless beauty, appreciating it wherever he found it.
It was why upon laying eyes on Yuuhi Kurenai, he was glad for the ANBU mask hiding the disapproving frown that had found its way to tighten his mouth. A dark look had come over his face, partly because he had been spying on the police department's nightly meetings for some time now and immensely disliked the information he was getting, but nevertheless he didn't like the first impression she made on him.
Twenty-three, still a genin, and wearing make-up. The light blue eye shadow felt like an eyesore.
"Kurenai, right?" he asked, assessing his companion from head to toe.
She nodded.
Despite being older, they were almost the same height, him even taller by a few centimeters. Tousled black curls spilled over her shoulders and framed an innocent face with rouged red lips. He inwardly cringed. Reminding himself he would be spending the duration of this mission dealing with her, he did his best to overlook it.
He found no need to introduce her to his team, as he would be returning her under Ibiki's wing after this run to the Suna outpost for an information exchange. It would be enough to throw her into a small group of Cloud shinobi on their way back from the second leg and then it would be over and done. However, there was one thing that bothered him more about her than was more than trivial, enough to pose a threat to the mission should it not go according to plan.
According to her file, she was adept at genjutsu. As he kept his steady gaze on her, those unsure red irises of hers kept being cast downwards under his scrutiny and he wondered if it was a bad omen to take her on this trip.
Cloud was known to be ruthless, as was the case with Hyuuga Hizashi. Being screwed over, their shinobi had been on the hunt for bloodline bearers of Leaf, and dangerous as it was, Kurenai's red eyes coupled with her midnight hair and pale skin matched seamlessly into the description of an Uchiha.
Itachi carefully took note of that information as he handed her the spare blank mask he brought along, watching her flounder for some time before slipping it on crookedly that he sighed and had to reach out to adjust it. Those scarlet eyes were a big problem, he grimaced darkly, certainly for no one but her alone. If they were caught, there would be no mistake she would immediately be tagged as the one from his clan. He could use it to his advantage, however it would always end up with her having the short end of whatever plan he came up with.
"Can you see?"
She nodded again, curls bobbing behind her. She was too pliant.
The eerie feeling at the back of his head nagged him to cut the mission short and return her to Ibiki. However, he knew it was a moot point since he had already signed the paperwork. Plu, no one amount of haggling had ever gone through with that jounin. Instead, he handed her the body armor issued to her, part of the set he checked out earlier before the meeting.
"Wear this."
Watching the obvious confusion in what little he could see of those irises which could easily spell her doom, she took it but was staring at it. His brow furrowed when she paused.
"Anything wrong?" he asked.
Even with the mask, he could see how her shoulders slumped, head lowered in embarrassment. At the very least she knew how ridiculous the situation was. This was outright retarded. Even Sasuke, of all people, knew how to tinker with it, playing with his belongings when he came home and parading in unwashed ANBU attire in their house until Fugaku scolded him to take it off.
She didn't know how to manipulate ANBU armor, didn't know the regular battle tactics, only knew a handful of hand signals, and was twenty-three and still a genin. That was enough to tick even him off, and he showed it. He had just finished berating her earlier, although he knew it wasn't her fault. He had not yet gotten over what he discovered during last night's meeting by the police squad of his father. It wore him out, patience and all.
He frowned behind his mask.
The Uchiha's mood soured, but he was distracted. After discovering the plans of revolution, he still had to report the results to the Hokage, something he did not look forward to. With everything he was currently going through, this last mission felt too irrelevant. He wished he could just drop it, yet he knew the torture specialist had no idea what he was doing undercover, so he couldn't blame him if he thought his work load was too light for his rank.
"I'm sorry," he heard Kurenai mumble, and he sighed, loudly this time. "It's just that I've never..."
"I hate excuses," he interrupted bluntly.
Circling the older girl, he took the armor from her, telling her to turn around and easily slipped it over her, positioning it and fastening it methodically, pulling at straps and tightening where need be. His irritation was assuaged to a tolerable degree as he noticed she was extremely attentive, concentrating on how he worked.
"Tomorrow. Be here early," he told her a bit too sharply once he was done, unable to reign in his temper at the last minute.
He watched her nod in return, pulling the mask up and revealing detached eyes as she turned around to go home. He didn't hide his dislike for her, yet he understood it was his emotional overflow from his double life speaking harshly.
"Kurenai."
She paused, looking at him over her shoulder, the motion catching the glint of the setting sun and tangerine reflected off the ringlets in her hair. He was in for something bad. He could just feel it.
"As your captain, you can trust me to keep you safe."
~x~
"Taichou!"
Everything was a mash of color dancing in his vision when he felt those curls brush against his face, his full weight leaning forward onto her as she struggled to support him on his feet. Hands groped to find her shoulders and using all his strength to brace himself, pushed himself away from her as her slender arms wound around his torso.
Something hurt. He didn't know what yet, just that he knew something extremely painful pulsated above all other feeling.
"Is it done?" he asked hoarsely, feeling slightly deranged.
The pseudo-Flash Step had taken a much greater toll than he imagined. His head swam slightly but soon everything came into focus, the body of the shinobi on the ground and Kurenai filling his vision. She looked worried as she watched his reactions.
"No one will find them for a week," she answered, hand coming up against his chest as he slid his arm around her shoulder.
His legs were still bad, and upon glancing at the location of the gibbous moon in the sky, he sullenly determined they still had at least half a night to wait out before his team would decide something had happened to them. At the very least, the genin was unhurt. Him, however...
His sharingan blazed on, his head snapping up as he picked up the chakra signatures of the group closest to them some ways off. Like a fuse, the group spread, activating the rest of those nearby clusters to blinking like holiday lights and chilling the blood in his veins. Glancing at her, her visible stress was because of uncertainty and he was thankful he wasn't one to show emotions. Behind his bloodline limit, everywhere looked like stars had descended.
It would have been beautiful if he didn't know they were the death of them. He breathed deeply, steeling his nerves. Not today. Doing his best to shove the pain at the back of his head, he took her hand and ran.
~x~
The realization dawned on him as he walked into his room, sinking into the mattress on the floor as the moon rose. He felt torn.
His family was starting an uprising, all because of some idiotic pride about the founder of their clan being defeated by the first Hokage and about being shamed by the Senju. This was beyond ridiculous. He may never understand why Fugaku thought so low of what happened, refusing to understand the reasons and complications of why it did. It was all pure ego stroking, to him at least.
His hand curled into a fist as he breathed in a lungful of his pillow, the smell of freshly washed sheets filling him and sun-dried fabric. It hadn't been easy to deal with that understanding, he knew, and for the first time in his life, he felt scared.
He felt afraid of what could happen. Reporting this to the Sandaime would definitely spell something dangerous for those involved in the planned revolution at the very least. If he didn't... the village would be destroyed.
His heart ached with the knowledge of the right thing to do. But it will have to wait. He still needed to meet with that last mission Ibiki managed to wedge into his schedule. After that... everything will be done. It will be over. He'd report it, every single detail, every last goddamned thing Fugaku and the rest of those selfish cousins of his tried so hard to keep secret.
They were too selfish, really. If this revolution failed, what would happen to those involved in name only? Didn't they realize what would happen once everything came crashing down?
Breathing out, Itachi opened his eyes.
The shadows seemed darker, longer. Clawing at him. His jaw clenched at the thought, feeling too weary for his years.
With Danzou on the Elder Council, it was a surefire possibility that something destructive was going to take place if he reported what he knew. He knew this. It pained him, but he had a bigger obligation than to kowtow to old wounds and names and prides and perfect worlds. He was too jaded now and knew there had to be some leeway on some things in everything to make the world work.
The stars from his open window winked mockingly at him from a clear black sky. Closing his eyes, Itachi got lost in dreams.
Death, he thought as he raced through the possibilities, would be my only reprieve.
~x~
Fuck.
He grabbed Kurenai and pressed a bloodied hand over her mouth, angrily staring at those scarlet orbs wide with terror as he backed them deep into the hollow of a giant tree. She was panicking, and not without reason.
"Don't," he said in his lowest voice possible, his sharingan enabling him to see Kurenai's face in the darkness, and slowly slid his fingers off her trembling lips as soon as they hit the end of the tunnel.
The annoying curly hair had broken free from the bang-up ponytail it was in earlier and was all over the place. He sighed. Moving back into a space that barely contained them, he pressed a hand to his side where most of the pain radiated from. Either this was the taijutsu user getting lucky or the result of the botched technique. A rib or two was cracked, pain throbbing as he quickly unfastened his vest, buckles snapping off, and he tried to survey the damage.
Blood had soaked through his shirt and he passed a hand over it, wincing at the slightest pressure. He didn't know if he had enough clear headedness at the moment to pull of a basic medical jutsu, and was contemplating if he had enough chakra to activate the mangekyou when he felt soft hands cover his. He looked up in bewilderment.
A small glow lit the dark enclave and lighted their faces from below as healing chakra passed through his hand and course into the wound, feeling it itching and the pain slightly subside. He watched her fully concentrating on her technique despite almost reaching nervous breakdown moments ago.
Through his sharingan powered vision he could see in the two-tone chakra light how her makeup had been smudged off, no trace left and in place a sheen of sweat on her brow. He noticed her lips were glossy no more, but were still as red as prime season cherries. Her heavy eyeliner was replaced by tears spiking her lashes wet.
At that moment he decided she looked better this way, the surprise disappearing from his face as he leaned back into the bulky seat of wood.
There was only so much space a hole in a tree could offer, and they were cramped sitting face to face, knee to knee, room enough only to maneuver out of there. Their hiding spot was like a tunnel, protruding lengthwise more than a couple meters into the heart of the plant, a mixture of wood and dirt beneath their feet. The heavenly halo glimmered for a bit longer before slowly subsiding, her chakra disappearing before he felt the weight of her hands lift and Kurenai moving to sit properly beside him.
He took a deep breath, feeling the amateur work done on his ribs. The unmistakable sting of a flesh wound remained but nothing when he tried to move his arm. It had to do. He couldn't expect someone who was still a genin at twenty-three to be able to perform perfect healing like a medic. She at least manged to fuse his ribs back to the point of it not hurting. However, he knew once surveyed by a professional, it would have to be broken on purpose to be reset.
He'd take it any day over losing lives.
"Sorry," she mumbled. He watched her, musing she wouldn't be able to see him, her chakra pathways a dull glow beneath her skin. "I couldn't do more."
"Stop apologizing," he murmured, leaning his head back and contemplating his new companion as she stared forlornly at her hands on her lap. She didn't reply.
In fact, she had done exceptionally well for a genin. She did keep into the shadows as a passive support and was incredibly obedient to his commands. That was priceless. To ANBU, at least. His thoughts drove darker, knowing being a doormat would get her killed someday if she decided this to be the main part of her profession.
Her healing as well, he realized, was good. She knew which to prioritize, and likely spent her last reserves in fusing his ribs.
Everything felt quiet. Sounds of the forest pervaded into their small tunnel at the roots of what seemed to be be a giant sycamore, frogs and crickets mutely pervading their environment and lulling them into a peaceful silence. A shower of rain continually pattered outside. He stared at the entrance of the hole, the only source of real light, and turned his sharingan off.
The blackness swallowed his vision for a few seconds before his eyes adjusted, and was met with the indigo glow from the outside forest floor wet with ferns and tall grass.
Unfortunately, he knew sooner or later those shinobi would find them. Unless they had a space or time altering technique that allowed transportation to safety, they would be stuck here until dawn. He could only speak for himself if he said he was prepared for capture, building details onto a generic plan in his head. Definitely it excluded his gaffe of a Flash Step. His body still held the dull stings from it.
At the very least he got her to confront someone in a fight, however poorly she did against the Cloud hunter. It didn't matter anyway. She finally got her baptism of fire. The moment they were out of this and reached the rest of his team at the outpost, they could hand her off to the emissaries and have them bring her home safely instead of staying with them. By that time, he'd have be done and over with Ibiki's assignment.
Her hair tickled his ear and he brushed it away slowly. However irritated he was at first, it was dawning on him Kurenai wasn't too bad after all. She was never going to be an assassin. A good teacher, if ever.
"We're going to get captured," he told her softly, turning his head down to face where he presumed she was.
The black emptiness of the crawl space lent nothing to his eyes, tempting him to turn on his sharingan. Barely seeing her, he felt her tensing up beside him. Her silhouette was discernable by his side, outlined against the dull indigo disk that was the outside world, her being closer to the entrance.
He didn't know how other teams worked or how ANBU tactics were seen by those who were lower in rank, but it was routine for them to get captured. It bought them some time to figure a way out of a hard situation, the one they were in right now included. They were stuck in the recesses of a tree and if it was hard for their would-be captors to find them, so would his team. They had to be found.
"Can't we just... run?"
Her voice was a small whisper in the dark, betraying her anxiety.
Despite himself, Itachi smiled wanly. Of course, she was still naive.
"Not possible," he replied casually, breathing slowing down to normal. Without unlimited chakra, he couldn't possibly defeat all teams they encountered if they made a run for it. At this rate, he can budget in time for them to recuperate. Then at first light, they'd break out for their inevitable capture. Earlier was like stepping on a mine, alerting everyone in the vicinity.
Her form shuddered and a pit formed in his stomach. She was visibly worried but he knew there was no other way out of this. His gut instinct had led them to this, and at all costs he needed to return to the Leaf. Her life included.
If anything, he found their situation slightly hilarious. Here they stayed, an almost-fourteen-year-old captain with a twenty-three-year-old genin in the middle of nowhere. He had to make out the most of this situation. As soon as he got home... he'd have to return to the Hokage and the Elder Council the results of his findings on the Uchiha revolution.
~x~
Sarutobi's face was grim. His usually warm, fatherly demeanor was now a chilling frozen mask of a tight mouth.
Darkness was engulfing the land just before the sun rose, the office of the Hokage as cold as the outside world and Itachi found it matching the somberness of the moment. He was standing before his commander's desk, the two of them the only souls awake at this time aside from those on guard duty and patrol.
There was a hardness in those black eyes of the Sandaime he never saw before, the viciousness and power of his youth returning to the wrinkled face and showing how much the report in his hands affected him.
"Is this true, my boy?"
Those eyes fixed on him and he felt pinned to where he stood. He knew the reaction was normal, him being part of the Uchiha, the clan, the blood, that dared...
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
The moon was sinking below the horizon beside the old man's head and he found he was chilled to the bone. His heart sped up, a tingling in his limbs and a weakness in his spine. For some reason, he felt like puking. It might have had something to do with the way the scroll was clenched in that bony grip and the sadness his commander openly showed, or it might have not. He didn't know.
"I'm sorry to have you do this."
He swallowed lightly. Carefully.
"No, sir," he said, his heart sinking in his chest as much as it did the first night he was told by Fugaku of the plans to overthrow the Senju government. "I... didn't feel what they were planning was right."
Those gray brows curled together, and he took it as a sign to continue.
"If you're worried about where my loyalties lie, I will stand by what's right."
The tight line of the Hokage's lips curved down to a frown. Early birds began their songs in the trees outside. It was a frown, but he definitely wasn't frowning on the answer he gave. For some reason, he seemed sad, even. For him, his fate, his role in this... he did not know.
"You understand, Itachi," began the old man, looking down at the scroll and setting it on the cluttered desk full of unfinished paperwork. "You do know that... that if this is true, the punishment will be harsh?"
"Yes."
There was a sigh, deep and rumbling like faraway thunder.
"Itachi, you don't have to continue if you don't want to. I don't want to force you to do something you don't like if there are other options."
"Sarutobi-sama, I'd like to continue. I am trusted enough in the circle of my father. I am fit for this."
A strong hand clasped his shoulder and he found himself unable to face the head of the village. He stared instead at the emblem on his chest, the badge of the Fire Country. He was delving into uncharted territory by continuing on his double agent mission, uncovering its scope and how much it affected. By what he currently knew, it engulfed the whole clan.
"Itachi..."
"Please, Hokage-sama," he interrupted carefully, looking up into the kindly face showing the pain that he could not. Cannot. Would not. "My heart is in this."
"Do you understand that this... the results of this, it can be even mean repayment by innocent lives? My boy, please think about this."
Silence.
"I will not waver."
A hug. He could remember when Fugaku last hugged him. He was seven, after he awakened his bloodline limit. Bloodline curse. That was the last time.
He went home that morning with the last espionage mission on the Uchiha. He would finalize everything, submit the results back. And then wait for further orders.
~x~
"We'll be here until dawn," he murmured, feeling Kurenai raise her head to look at him.
There was no response and they stayed that way for a few more moments as he leaned back against the wood. She was quiet. He liked that. He could have been stuck with someone chatty.
Closing his eyes, Itachi shifted slightly where he sat, feeling her arm brush against, before untying his hiai-ate. He scratched at his hairline, itchy with blood and sweat, his wound still dully throbbing. He didn't know if he wasn't bothered because it was partially healed or he was getting used to the pain.
It felt so peaceful, them sitting like this. If he kept his eyes closed, he could imagine they were back in familiar territory and close to home. They needed to keep their strength for later.
"Did you want to become a shinobi?" he pondered openly, opening his eyes and waiting for her answer. There was no difference in the darkness.
"No."
"Aa."
He wondered why she had gotten into the business anyway, but he didn't want to pry. It might be something she didn't want to share and he blinked, slowly watching her out of the edge of his vision.
This stillness despite the battle was something he always looked forward to, choosing the quietest way out of things whenever possible. He spent more time being bait with his team for the same reason. Undisturbed in his own world without anyone trying to bother him, the problems of Fugaku's overbearing parenting, Sasuke's nagging, the village's orders, the so-called forcing of him into the revolution...
It was likening it to being in the eye of a story. In the midst of violence and bloodshed, he got away from it all, gathering energy before he faced the world once more. Now, he was sharing that world with Kurenai.
Amusing.
Suddenly she trembled, "I don't want to die."
Monochrome highlights bled in his vision as chakra coursed through his eyes and he stared at her, everything slightly glowing in the dark as seen with his bloodline limit. She was staring blankly at her feet but her lower lip was curled tight, face framed in those unruly curls. She was wearing an unsuccessful tough facade.
"Who said you were going to die?"
She turned to face him with a questioning look, eerily able to meet his eyes faultlessly in the gloom.
"You said we're gonna get caught," she pointed out, confusion washing over her features mingled with hope. "So... we're not getting caught?"
It dawned on him he didn't explain his plan to her. He wasn't surprised he forgot, moreso because he had grown accustomed to his team's ability to pick up on subtle details and they needed not much instruction on what to do or expect. They just knew. His new companion didn't have an idea of what basic tactics were being used, being only with him to tag along.
He should have known better.
"We are," he said, wondering how he could explain properly. "But we need to recover before becoming captives. Then we wait for an opening or our team to find us. Whichever comes first."
The way she was looking at him made him uneasy, wondering if it was possible she could see in the dark and was watching his expression. He hoped it was mere coincidence. He pretended to check on his wound, knowing full well it was only for show.
"Is that all?"
Curious. Wondering. Knowing he was keeping something from her.
"You're going to have to buy us time," carefully debating whether it would surprise her. "Your eyes make you look like an Uchiha. They'll go for you."
Beside her, he could only see how her manicured hand tightened around her pants as it rested on her knee. He didn't know if rookie ANBU units had to deal with this as well.
"How?" thinly veiled perplexity.
How, indeed. Itachi's heart skipped a beat. Once again, he had too much expectation placed heavily on her. Apparently, even knowledge about delaying tactics was extremely lacking. He wondered how many teachers lost their minds trying to explain such things to their students. Or worse, have to force them to go through the experience.
He swallowed lightly, deciding whether to sugarcoat it or just give it to her straight. He opted the latter.
"You're going to get raped."
Kurenai's reaction was just as he expected. Brows drew together, pupils dilated, lips parting. He wondered how, why was it when kunoichis were told the first time, they were surprised. Given a few years into the profession, they'd turn cold blooded about it and simply nod in response like it was a common thing. As much as possible when women were assigned under him, he didn't go for that option. He understood well enough what it meant to them, allowing such delay tactics only if no other viable options were available.
Bloodlines were precious in this current war, and either way he assessed it, there was no way red eyes would be missed. He could try a simple genjutsu, but if they were separated or anyone discovered, it would spell worse. They had to take advantage of her being a woman at the initial moment of contact with captors. He sighed heavily. They need not let it stretch too far where she would be dragged off to enemy headquarters for unnecessary experimentation and sure death from trying to discover a nonexistent bloodline trait.
He prepared pre-versed answers for possible questions she might throw his way. Instead, her face crumpled and she stared fixated at nothing in front of her. His jaw felt tight and he inhaled the wood's scent, the tree they were in smelling like pine from the cool balm of the sap.
"Give them enough time for me to know about them," he said in as low a baritone as his voice would allow, feeling a twang of guilt at not knowing what to say. "Struggle. But not too much that they beat you."
He frowned when she remained still, as if not breathing, scarlet eyes blankly staring at the wall in front of them.
"Kurenai." She slowly turned back to meet his eyes, blank as clean paper, cheek still bearing the blood he smudged earlier, lips marked in crimson where he pressed his hand to shush her. "I'm sorry."
Her response to him was a sudden unreadable mix of emotions, too warped he couldn't point out any specific one, trying to decipher exactly what she was worried about as she buried her head into the nest of arms atop her knees. Kami-sama. He did not deal with this kind of thing. He just didn't. She was worried, definitely. Only an idiot wouldn't know that. But he just didn't know how to explain that no, there was no other way to work around this.
He could choose to fight instead. Try and stretch his strength and use forbidden techniques. However, most of his energy reservoirs were almost spent. How long would he last between attacking and being found by InoShikaCho? The feeling growing at the edge of his mind was strange, seeing her so disturbed by his plan.
Itachi reached out and touched her shoulder.
Kurenai stiffened beneath his fingers and for a moment there he thought she was going to cry. She then sighed deeply, raising her head and once again striking him frozen as she looked him dead on eye to eye. His brow furrowed. Could she see in the dark?
"I haven't done it before."
Her voice came muted and barely comprehensible with the patter of strengthening rain outside their sanctuary, but it made his heart stop for a moment. Thunder crackled, booming overhead, the forces breaking sound barriers reaching deep within the tree and rattling in his chest as lightning forked through the air. Flashes brightened their darkness like a strobe, him watching as her cherry lips curled into a sad frown, dimpling her chin and a sheen of tears now clearly highlighted in her eyes.
ooo000ooo
He held his hand outside to the gloomy night air, the coolness of rain rushing and washing blood, both his and not, away from his arms, careful not to make sudden movements should anyone be passing by. The cover of the darkest hours was his friend and he was making good use of it. He had forced his face into a mask he always retreated behind at times of stress, perturbed by Kurenai's uncanny ability to identify him in the obscurity of the hole. Even if she couldn't, it was solely to compose himself from what she told him.
He had politely replied he needed some time to think more and be able to get away from her as far as he can. That is, only up the opening of the void they were stuck in, only some few meters away.
The slightly disturbing phenomenon the other male shinobi whispered about, what his team had laughed about before handing him a copy of the guidelines, it all flashed in his head. Statistically he had only one in a couple hundred chances for it to happen to him, more or less because it was supposed to be his first and only time be breaking a genin. The fact she was older than most genin made it easier to sink in, but he easily suppressed a shudder at what it would have been had she been a regular Academy graduate.
The blood had gone sticky and was now being rehydrated in the rain, easily sloughing off through his fingers, rubbing his hands together slowly to get rid of it quicker. Ibiki's last advice haunted him now more than ever.
"Give her a choice. It's not like there's much, but at least give her one."
He swallowed, his heart beating a pace too face that he paused, touching a hand to his chest. He breathed deeply, closing his eyes and taking in the scent of the freshly falling rain, the sharp tang of ozone, and the coldly heavy, earthy scent of wood resin. Willing his heart to slow and obey. If he concentrated enough, he could practically feel the presence of other shinobi, the closest group about a mile off.
He opened his eyes, greeting the empty presence of the forest with hands held out before him, water cleanly trickling down to his elbows and dampening his rolled sleeves. Goosebumps swept across his skin and crawled right up his nape. His blood felt like ice in his veins, coursing throughout him as anxiety felt foreign in his being with the fresh wind whipping the hair from his face. It was new, this feeling.
Fishing out a tiny bottle in his pouch the size of about half the width of his palm, he stared at the golden brown contents sloshing inside through the help of the murky light. Never did he imagine there would come a time he would actually use it. Unscrewing the tiny aluminum cover, he cringed at the sharp smell.
He never liked alcohol.
Itachi steeled himself, then threw back the liquid.
Retreating back into the warm recesses of their temporary shelter, he crawled, hands feeling the rough outline of the walls and softness of the soil, sweat dampening his brow and rolling down the curve of his back, the brandy sitting badly like a rock in the pit of his stomach. Hand over hand, knee after knee on the knobbly mixture of tree root and earth. He clenched his jaw when he accidentally brushed against her foot, unaware he had already reached the end.
Pausing, he gripped her arm and used it as leverage to reclaim his seat at the very end of the tunnel and leaned back with a small sigh. Her muscles coiled under her skin until he released her, and he now fully faced the indigo disc from afar.
Once again those large eyes found his without hesitation. Her voice was thin in the warm, heady air, her hand coming to catch his as he pulled away.
"I'll... try."
He inhaled deeply, running over phrases in his mind, connecting and breaking them up, reconnecting words he thought was right, all to answer her question but to figure out how to offer the proposition to her. The warmth of her hand made him realize the chill of his own, and he slipped his away, shutting his sharingan off. A wave of shame washed over him at her uncanny ability to see him in the dead blackness around them.
"Just please," her silhouette's hand resting on his knee, "don't let them hurt me."
Images of a former woman assigned under him filled his head, being beaten as she lay thrashing on a table, bloodcurdling screams ringing in his ears. Harsh sounds and smells were the hardest to block out even while bound blindfolded, the sting of blood permeating the air and cloth ripping, maniacal laughter at her effort to fight them off. Backup had arrived, but he made the effort to be present at the funeral.
Kurenai's form didn't move and the weight of what was about to happen seemed more real now than ever. He never took on other moving teams and asked to be assigned a permanent one if possible. The Hokage then gave him the trio of Yamanaka, Akimichi and Nara.
So this... this genin. She was the last person who he's be supposed to take care of. The Sandaime had not been subtle to tell him what could happen. This was the last thing he could do as both ANBU captain and Uchiha. The next mission, he just knew he would be staining his hands with that which had begotten his own.
It terrified him.
Everything would be changed. This is his last chance to do this, and he wasn't going to...
Breathing shakily, he reached out and firmly took Kurenai by the back of the neck, then pulled her towards him. He pressed the side of her face against his chest, ignoring the squeak of protest and the way his heart thudded painfully. His nerves were getting to him. He should stop thinking of what nefariousness was to come when he returned to Leaf. That wasn't his current priority.
His hand clenched tightly into the silky curls spilling between his fingers. He'd be damned if he didn't manage to save this one.
"Choose," to the shadows. Her head was comfortably listening to his breathing.
Killing her himself would be so easy, to put her out of misery and just get on with the mission alone to the border. He can chalk it up to inexperience and work hazard and there would be no one who would question him. It was so frighteningly easy, really. He had yet to deal with a euthanistic blow to someone fighting on the same side. Not yet, at least.
It was why he felt extremely disturbed by his train of thought, like a whisper in his ear telling him that if he pressed her face just a bit harder so she couldn't breathe, letting her struggle a bit, her existence can fade so easily without need of uncouth suffering under Cloud nin. More alarming to Itachi was he was due to perform much more than just kill her, after this mission was over.
She felt endearingly warm lying there as he held her to himself. He was quite sure now he was doing this to selfishly keep the guilt at bay rather than for her sake. Originally he didn't like her when this started out, and now her life was literally riding in his hands, his decision, his incompetency now a burden for him to bear. Someone innocent, the last citizen of Leaf he had the chance to do good before everything went to hell.
The moment he stepped into the village there was no turning back. The moment he stepped out of this silent world frozen in the big picture, he would be gone.
Lips thinned into a big line, exhaling softly in the little world they had, a world doomed to exist only for a few hours. A world untouched by betrayal.
He could do this. Have a clean track record so they wouldn't see it coming.
"You're not all right," muffled into his chest. "Your heart is erratic."
Kurenai knew something was wrong but did not break his musings as she adjusted her position, her hair nuzzling under his chin. She felt small, frail even, for her age even though they were almost the same height. Her breathing was hot against his damp shirt, and Itachi noticed for the first time the sting from the pseudo-Flash Step had worn off a good deal.
He allowed her leeway to move between his knees and her cheek accidentally brushed against his, too feverish for him to deduce she was blushing or she was sick. She came at last to settle her head on his shoulder as he wouldn't let her go farther, legs tangling together in the cramped space.
"Choose," the low timbre of his voice filling the air.
He was sorry this had to happen for her. She could have been assigned to someone else, not to someone already tied down to too-heavy responsibilities at too-young an age, and she might have had no problem in dealing with this situation. But that couldn't be changed. What was done is done.
He wasn't one to show affection outwardly even to his family, much less incite touch and grant intimacy to anyone. This situation made him want to flee, his palms beginning to sweat that he released his hold on her hair, drifting it lower to the bulky armor of her back. Delicate hands pressed against his chest as she tried to push some distance between them. For some reason, he knew she was doing it to stare at him. Did she really see that good in the dark? Please say no.
"Choose what?" she asked tentatively, and he imagined the full lips mouthing the question.
His jaw clenched. It suddenly felt too humid in here, too stuffy for him, holed up in a pungently sweet, sticky wooden space in the roots of a tree with her. A part of him didn't want to do this, another arguing it was for the better. She had no way of knowing how things can take a turn brutally for her in this job.
His breathing sped up and he wondered which shade of gray he was treading on with what he was deciding to do. He'd make the choice for her, as selfishly as he was keeping her alive at all. If he didn't do anything to regain some sort of control in situations, he was going to lose his sanity, that he was sure of.
Straightening his back from resting on the wood behind him, he leaned closer to her and felt the warm, moving air before her that lingered with the scent of cosmetics. It managed to break through the overpowering sharp scent of resin that cloyed to everything, through crisp, clean scent of new-fallen rain permeating in with them from the outside.
"When things go bad," he said quietly, painted nails and fingers curling around material of his shirt at the sound of the buckles in her armor unsnapping. "Focus on this."
It felt like relief to shove the hard amour out of the way, the hitch in her breathing not lost on him when his hands rose to capture her face to hold it gently in place. Her long hair curled around the length of his arms and was everywhere, tucking some behind her ear. Briefly it passed his mind how many ways this might be wrong and how many ways it could go wrong. She was rigid under his touch and he wouldn't be surprised if she pushed him away.
That got lost when he tipped forward and felt her soft lips warm against his own.
ooo000ooo
Figures. They were up against a lord of Cloud, powerful and glaring angrily when he was spat on by Kurenai.
"You bitch!"
Cloth ripping and more boisterous laughter. Unbuckling. Leather snapping. His teeth grinding. Pigs.
Her head turned to the side and red orbs stared back at him, her face suddenly calm. Haggard, but calm. Her limbs stilled from fighting, breathing slowed from screaming. A flash of a tired smile on (cherry red soft) lips and suddenly something electrified inside him when his senses picked up on a faint trace of faraway energy.
They're here.
He rose and was once more predictably shoved back into the muddy earth by brawny arms and rough hands, the impact loosening his arm guards just enough to maneuvering kunai hidden within. The chakra strings dug painfully where it touched skin but it was worth it. Crimson bled into his eyes the moment the lord stopped to follow Kurenai's gaze and locked his mint green (hateful) eyes onto his kekkei genkai. Realization twisted loathe into his features.
InoShikaCho. With a short jerk, both blades slid into his down into his palms, the metal cold as ice.
~x~
He didn't know how they got here but all he knew was that he couldn't think straight. Everything was in a fuzz and so physical he couldn't get a firm grasp on his thoughts. He never got this far with...
Pushing guilt and images of his fiancee out of his head, he pressed himself closer to Kurenai, pulling back only for air. This was losing control and grabbing hold of destiny all at one instant, breaking blood-streaked tradition and following village coded rules, ethics and morality blurred and smeared all over the lines no one would know what was right or wrong.
He couldn't see in the inky gloom and had no care, thankful for the blinding of the curse binding his allegiance to his last name, following the pounding of blood in his ears and the dizzying intoxication of the assault on his other senses. Their kisses were sloppy, hurried, only brief and passing as he pressed his mouth to the rest of the skin expanse beneath him, her breathing catching time and again. Explaining details had turned fast into him with hands clenching the rough cloak thrown over the earth floor and him hovering barely above her.
It felt stuffy inside the roots of the tree, sweat salty on his tongue and clothes clinging uncomfortably damp like a second skin. And hair, curls tangling everywhere, strands caught in roaming fingers and wet lips.
Soft hands found where his shirt ended and held fast against the slick skin of his back, reason robbed from him. Somewhere between gracelessly sliding her pants up against smooth skin and fumbling to pull his down Itachi knew there was going to be no turning back.
~x~
Itachi knelt down before the man swathed in airy cotton as the sun beat down on them, the red stone pressing hot against his forehead when he bowed. A gust of warm air caressed the party and the man spoke.
"Thank you, shinobi. Rise please."
He did as he was told.
"I'm afraid we have to take our leave now," he found himself saying, glancing at the genin on their team. "I am in personal debt to you for taking care of this."
"No. Bringing her to your village would be small payment," said the emissary in heavy accents, bronzed skin glinting like polished rock. "It is us who should thank you."
He nodded.
The last he saw of Yuuhi Kurenai were scarlet eyes watching him from within a litter, behind laced curtains fluttering in the desert breeze. She had tried to say goodbye to him but he waved her off, sharing only a knowing look. She had understood it and instead bowed in withdrawal, giving the last formality she ever would to him. Anything that happened between then was only collateral damage. He thanked whichever gods there were she was mature enough to understand at least that.
When Inoichi placed a heavy hand on his shoulder to tell him they were going back, it flashed though his mind's eye of the inevitable. Sliding the mask down to cover his face, he decided he would tell the Sandaime and the Elder Council everything he knew, no matter the consequences. Sliding the mask down to cover his face, he decided it was the moment he hid everything that he ever was.
Full moon.